My boyfriend and I have been together for 6 months. I knew him prior, and I knew he was aggressive and what would be considered an “alpha”. He was intense and confrontational. We got close quickly, started living together when he was home (shift work). I felt we got along well, had the same values. He was good to me most of the time.
But I ignored a lot of red flags. I wanted to believe he would be different with me. He told me constantly how I treat him so good and was the best thing to happen to him. I know he has a history. A criminal record for assault when he was younger. I knew he had been to the drunk tank many times. I can’t help but feel like this is my own fault for not leaving sooner.
He was verbally abusive. It started small, yelling, harsh words. I’ve been in abusive relationships (and have also been abusive myself) so I told him I wouldn’t accept or tolerate it. He was good for a bit. But then it continued. At first I didn’t fight back. I didn’t engage. I trying to deescalate. But then the lines were blurred. He didn’t respect me, why would I? I started yelling back. I would leave the room and he’d follow me. I’d stand up for myself and ask for space. Eventually I was name calling. I didn’t want to be the dark version of my past. I tried so hot to not let it get to that point. I was trying to make this a healthy relationship with someone I now see wasn’t capable. I put a lot of work into myself – I thought I could help him too.
Lots of stories of him raging and people not being able to stop him. He was different when he drank, but the aggression was always there. I knew deep down it was bad but I didn’t want to admit it. I wanted to be loved so bad.
We were just on a trip. I’m on a flight home two days early. 3 days ago, he flipped out because I adjusted my bikini top and apparently he saw my nipple. It was an accident. But he left me at the pool, came back a few minutes later and smacked me in the back of the head and dumped a beer on me.
That night, I got back to the room and showered. He was triggered by an old photo, smashed my phone in the shower (meanwhile we’re in Mexico and my child is back home). I eventually got out of the shower. He spit in my face. I spit back. I slapped him, scratched him. We had been drinking. Went to bed and the next morning he apologized, asked for another chance, said he’d turn it around. I agreed.
Yesterday, he made a comment about a girl sucking his dick. I reacted and threw my drink in his face. He threw his back at me. I know what I did was wrong. I know this.
I went for a walk, came back to the room, showered to get ready to find something to eat at the resort. He started calling me a slut. Spit in my face again. Said I was meeting some guy I met for dinner. Took my phone. Threatened to break it again (this was a new one we had to purchase in Mexico). Threatened to rip up my passport so I couldn’t go home. I begged him to let me go. Give me my stuff. I told him I have a child to go home to. He told me he doesn’t give a fuck about them, they’re a disgrace, that they’ll grow up be to a POS like me, that he would harm us. He’d hire someone to disfigure me. I was begging him for my stuff so I could leave. He wouldn’t. He unplugged the phone in the room. He smashed a bunch of my stuff. I feel like it was fight or flight. I couldn’t take it and I started slapping and scratching him. Pushing him. Fighting as naked as I could.
He grabbed me by the throat and strangled me on the bed for 2-3 seconds, enough for me to see black. He slapped me hard. He grabbed my hair and threw my head into the floor a bunch of times. I was screaming. I told him if he’s going to kill me, I’m going to make sure my family is proud of how I fought. He finally let me go.
I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe I let it get to this point. All I can think is if I didn’t react or engage, he wouldn’t have done those things. I’m not proud of how I behaved. Both times alcohol was involved. He’s twice my size. I feel like this is a dream. It’s surreal. I got on the first flight home that I could. I think he stayed. He doesn’t know where I am, what’s happened. He’s texted and asked if I’m ok, if I left. I didn’t say a word.
Now I look and feel like the abuser. I’m ashamed. I hate what I did. I am not trying to make excuses but I feel like he pushed and pushed. I didn’t want to be this person. I told him that so many times – that I didn’t want this life. I could have stopped it. My body hurts.
I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid to charge him. We know the same people. I’m hurting so much.
EDIT: I own the house and his stuff is there. He still has his own place. I’ll be changing all the codes and ensuring the alarm system is on at all times.
EDIT2: I’m afraid of charging him or getting a restraining order and him retaliating.
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